Overwhelming Dark
by Sephy-Noir
Summary: Crimson droplets, a last confession. Character Death. Howince.
1. Chapter 1

Okay this is something I wrote as an apology for not updating my other fic for ages. I have writers block… well for that story anyway. If you want this to continue then just say so.

I do not own the Boosh. It wouldn't be as good.

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For weeks now a dark depression had washed over him. He had tackled the problem with pain. The pain helped him forget the depression. It had started with Chinese burns but then things got worse. The events with the Hitcher, the Crack Fox, the Jazz virus, the Flighty Zeus and Vince had worsened his depression. He felt completely useless and worthless. He had turned to the comfort of watching the blood seep from his writs. The cuts gradually got deeper and grew in number. A day would no longer go past without at least five gashes being carved into his arms.

The others were clueless. Vince thought he used Chinese burns to take out his frustration on himself. But the reason he still did them was to break the healing cuts and cause a wave of pain that would make him emerge slightly from the depression.

Tonight the depression was overwhelming him. He was alone in the flat, Naboo was out with Bollo and Vince clubbing. It had, as usual, been a bad excuse given as to why he couldn't go with them.

He took a knife from the kitchen and looked at his reflection in the gleaming metal surface. He pulled up his sleeves and slashed across his wrists with the sharp blade. This is how it would end for Howard Moon. He wouldn't be found until it was to late.

He moved to the phone and dialled in Vince's mobile number.

"Hello?"

"Vince I'm sorry," he thought for a second before adding, "I love you." Before hanging up.

It didn't matter now; Vince wouldn't be able to get to him in time to question him.

He stumbled into the shared room and collapsed onto his bed, he felt light headed and his vision was turning black at the edges.

He began to hum a tune under his breath as he thought about everybody's reactions. He didn't think that Naboo or Bollo would particularly care if he lived or died. Vince would be sad, but then he would move on quickly. He had enough friends to hang around with. They would gladly help the Prince of Camden forget about the Jazz-loving freak that was an embarrassment to him.

"Nobody will miss me,' he whispered to the dark room.

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Vince Noir ran back to the flat as fast as he could. He had even removed his highly fashionable silver platform boots and risked his socks getting dirty and ripped on the pavement, the shaman and his familiar not far behind as he reached the front door.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" Vince hissed as he dropped the keys and scrambled to pick them up and fit them into the lock.

He ran up the stairs calling his friend's name loudly. The first thing he saw was the blood-covered telephone and a trail of blood spatter leading to their room. He dashed into the room and collapsed next to the blood soaked bed where his best friend lay motionless, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes.

"Howard…Howard wake up…wake up please…come on his isn't funny anymore. Wake up…" Vince cried desperately. He held one of the cold hands, ignoring the blood.

Naboo came up behind Vince and placed his hand on the man's shoulder.

"He's dead, Vince. Nothing you can do will bring him back." the shaman said quietly. He pulled Vince away from the body and guided him out of the room.

"Bollo phone an ambulance."

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So I am letting you guys decide if I should continue this or leave it as a oneshot.

So review please. Every review goes towards ending this deep depression brought on by exams.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, the second chapter of my depressing fic.

Thank you to SisiDraig and BrieStarWarsQueen for reviewing.

As ever, I do not own the Mighty Boosh

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Vince lay on the sofa covered in a large blanket, his eyes red and puffy from crying. A beige shirt hung off of his thin frame that used to belong to Howard. It still smelt of Howard faintly, although the smell was beginning to be replaced by that of his own.

"Vince, why don't you come out with us? You need to get out of here for a bit." Naboo asked. He handed the Goth a flyer.

"Piss off Naboo." was the reply. It was the same reply that had been given every time, yet Naboo still tried to get him to move from the sofa that he had now occupied since Howard had died.

"Fine. But I doubt that Howard would have wanted you to mope around…"

"He gave up Naboo. He gave up because of me. He didn't care what happened after he was gone. All he wanted was an escape," Vince cried, "He's gone because we didn't notice his problem. He was depressed and we made it worse. We didn't even stop to think what we were doing to him."

Vince buried his face into the blanket and cried into the soft material. The blue clad shaman took this as his sign to leave.

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Vince slowly uncurled from his human ball and carefully set the blanket to his side. He made sure that the shaman and his familiar were gone before sneaking into the potion filled room.

He stood in front of the poster of Rudi and Spider with a look of deep concentration. Trying to remember the words and motion Naboo used to open the compartment. He recited the incantation and watched, pleased with himself, as the mounted poster swung open.

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Bollo stiffened, something was going on and it didn't feel right. He scanned the crowd for Naboo. A difficult task when most of the crowd were wearing platform boots meaning that the tiny shaman was lost amongst the dancers.

The feeling was getting worse. He started to move through the swarm.

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Vince opened the book's ancient pages and searched for something that would fix his shattered soul.

He grinned as his searching stopped. His finger traced the words slowly as his voice filled the empty flat with mystical words.

Then there was…. nothing. Not a poof of smoke or a loud noise. Nothing happened.

"W…w…what?" Vince asked the thin air desperately. He was on the verge of breaking down in sobs.

He scanned the page again looking to see if he had made any mistake with the incantation. No, he had done everything as the book had instructed. No mistakes with the incantation. He had done everything right.

He curled in on himself body shaking as he sobbed into his hands.

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Naboo hadn't been too harsh on Vince when he had returned. Instead Bollo had taken him to his room where the young man had cried himself to sleep. The few words Bollo could make out were 'tried' and 'Howard'.

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"What he done?" The familiar asked curiously. He took the Book from Naboo to take back to its shelf.

"I'm not sure. From what I made out, nothing happened. But there will be some repercussions from this."

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Okay. I swear that the next chapter will contain happy at the end. So review to let the happy begin!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Okay this will start the happy…towards the end. But there will be happy in it! Thank you to everyone that reviewed the last chapter or even saw the last chapter and took some time to read it.

I do not own the Mighty Boosh. I'm sure that even if I didn't put a disclaimer they wouldn't sue me… ah, I just remembered what they did to the Honey Monster…

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After days of watching Vince to make sure the young man wouldn't try anything else with his magic books, Naboo decided that it was safe to out again. He was going on a Shaman party with Bollo. He had invited Vince, the Board of Shaman had agreed considering the circumstances, but Vince wasn't ready to go anywhere. He was still grieving.

Admittedly he was reluctant to leave Vince. So he had made sure there was no way for the Goth to access any of his magic books or potions. But still he wasn't sure if leaving Vince alone was the best thing to do.

"I'll be fine Naboo. Have a good time." The Goth insisted.

Naboo opened his mouth to say something as he stepped onto the carpet containing the Shaman Board, Saboo and Tony were already arguing about something or other.

"Just go Naboo. I'll be fine, I was being a right bumbaklaat." Vince said, pushing the shorter man onto the stretch carpet.

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The Goth stood in the middle of the living room looking lost. He really didn't know what to do with himself, so he settled for watching the TV.

He had no clue what he was watching but there was a tall Goth with backcombed brown hair. A while ago he might have been laughing at the man's jokes, but at the moment he didn't feel like laughing. He just felt empty.

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Vince sat on the sofa nursing his half empty bottle of Vodka. Before Howard had gone, he would have argued that it was half full. But he was in no mood to think like the old sunshine kid.

He drunkenly pushed himself up off of the sofa and swayed towards the bathroom where he found one of Howard's old cutthroat razors. His reasoning drowned by the Vodka and his need to be with Howard again, made slashing his wrists seem like a great idea.

He watched the blood flow and giggled. The giggles quickly turned into peels of laughter. It looked so pretty as it splashed to the floor making small puddles of crimson all over the white tiles.

Was he going crazy? He didn't doubt that. At least he wouldn't be crazy for long. He found himself wondering how this felt for Howard. Did the Northerner feel scared or did he laugh hysterically as he felt himself fade away. No he saw the peaceful look on the other man's face, he had been content to go.

He slumped forward into someone's arms. Whoever it was sat him down carefully on the floor and bandaged his wrists. He wanted to shout at the person to let him go, he wanted to go. All he saw was a blur of a person with some sort of white blur behind him.

"Hold tight little man." A familiar voice said.

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Okay review please. Hope you like this chapter.

By the way, sorry if it's gone strange but I'm feeling slightly off after having a few drinks with my mother and her mates. I think you can guess that I don't have any exams until Monday. So I can get more done on this story. Hopefully a longer chapter next.


	4. Chapter 4

Here is the next chapter. Hopefully you guys like it.

I do not own the Mighty Boosh in any way shape or form. Although I do have some DVD's and CD's their Book and also an Old Gregg costume I made to go and see the live show (which I also do not own).

Enjoy!

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The first thing that Vince noticed was the after effect of a night of drinking. To his confusion his wrists were throbbing painfully. Had he slept funny? No it felt worse than that.

He opened his eyes carefully, wincing at the light that had managed to find its way through the curtains. He could make out the fuzzy images of his posters; he guessed that he was in his room. When the burning in his eyes stopped and he could see properly, he looked down at his wrists.

"Shit!" He cried, staring at the bloody bandages tightly wrapped around his arms.

Slowly recollections of the night came to him, the cutthroat razor in the bathroom that he had dragged across his veins, the blood dripping to the floor and the feeling of life slipping away.

'_Hold tight little man._'

He must have been seriously pissed and crazy, because he swore that he had heard Howard. That, he decided, would be the last time he would allow himself to drink. Of course he couldn't just stop living, he had to live so that he could become a famous musician in Howard's memory. It was what he had decided once he had realised that there was no way to bring the Northerner back.

One thought came to mind. Who had helped him? In his drunken state there was no way that he would be able to bandage himself up. He would have been dead by now. He knew it couldn't be Naboo or Bollo; both were at their Shaman party.

He remembered a figure helping him. Was this person still here?

"Hello?" he shouted into the quiet room. If there was someone in the flat then they would be able to hear him. There was no reply to his shout. He felt uneasy. Maybe the person had helped him and left in the night.

He tried to remember clearly who had helped him. He tried to visualise the person who saved him but he had been so drunk that his vision was blurred. There was a white blur behind the person helping him, was it another person? He doubted it; the white blur wasn't the right shape to be a person.

He got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom still wondering who had helped him. He saw the razor and the blood on the floor; it made him shiver knowing that it was his blood. He walked to the sink and splashed some water in his face and looked into the mirror.

His eyes widened and his jaw slacked. Standing behind him, looking at him sadly was the very person he wanted to be with.

"Howard?" he asked quietly. Turning to look behind him where the deceased man stood.

Vince noticed the Northerner's skin was pale, his lips tinted blue and his hair had turned snowy white. He was also dressed in his Zoonivense uniform. On his back was a pair of large fluffy white wings.

The Goth fainted.

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Again he woke up in his room. He sat up instantly, eyes searching for Howard in the darkness. He found him sitting in the corner on his old bed.

"How?" He asked.

Howard turned towards him and looked at him with a saddened smile.

"You did it," the Northerner sighed, "You saved me again. I ended my life because I wanted to escape from all of this, Vince."

Vince paled and looked down at his knees.

"I'm sorry Howard. I just wanted you back so badly. I wanted to apologise to you for everything I did to you. I was a complete tit and I know it," Vince looked up at his dead friend and whimpered, "please don't hate me for it."

"Hate you? Vince, I could never hate you." Howard said softly.

"B…b…but, you said it yourself, you k…killed yourself to escape all of this." The raven-haired man sniffed. He didn't know why he was starting to cry when he had what he wanted sitting in the same room as him.

"Vince, I don't hate you. I love you to much to hate you,"

Vince felt as if his heart had stopped. He had heard those words just before Howard had killed himself but to hear those words when the man himself was sitting in front of him was like being told that Gary Newman wanted to make an album with him.

"I know. You didn't give me a chance to say anything." The young man said sadly. He gracefully extracted himself from his bed and joined Howard on the other bed.

Howard looked at Vince in shock, as the Goth placed his arms around him. Slowly the younger man closed the distance between their lips and kissed him tenderly. As they parted from the loving kiss he whimpered, not wanting it to end.

"I love you." Vince breathed into Howard's ear. He gently pushed the other down onto his back with his wings splayed out to avoid being crushed.

Their mouths met again but this time in a heated kiss, both men moaning in pleasure, tongues clashing in a battle of dominance.

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Vince held Howard close to him as the other man slept from exhaustion. He wouldn't let the other man go, he wanted to make sure that this wasn't a dream. He felt so happy; he didn't want this moment to end.

"I'll be here when you wake up, Vince." The Northerner mumbled tiredly into Vince's chest.

That was enough to reassure the Goth.

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Okay that is not the end of the fic. It is only the beginning! Mwahahahaha…um yeah…

So please review ^_^ Every review helps to fend away writers block and make more cuddly Howince.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay I'm so sorry about the lack of updating. I had a little blockage in the mind tank. It took Evanescence's Tourniquet to give me inspiration.

Once again I must inform the world that I do not own the Boosh.

Also if you are on Twitter follow Dave Brown AKA Jimmylazers , Noel Fielding AKA noelfielding11 and Rich Fulcher AKA Rich_Fulcher They are entertaining and all the real ones.

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"What?" Howard asked, turning to face Vince who had been staring at him since he had woken up.

"Can you use them?" The Goth asked curiously.

Howard sighed; this was the beginning of the interrogation. He knew this would happen sooner or later. He was surprised that Vince hadn't started the questioning sooner.

He glanced over his shoulder at the white-feathered wings. Yes, he could use them. This time the budget had not been used solely on Vince's hair. It was strange; he'd never thought about it when he was searching for Vince, he'd just done it. Thinking back on it now, he wasn't sure how to use them. They moved on their own, occasionally they would move when he wanted them to. They kept a constant rhythm, flapping slowly behind him.

"I'll get back to you on that." The maverick said thoughtfully.

Indeed, he would have to experiment. Maybe not throwing himself of a roof or anything. If he found out he couldn't work out how to fly then the outcome to that experiment would be… messy.

"Why did you only come back now? Why didn't you come back when I used the spell?"

"I was lost." Howard answered sadly.

"What do you mean lost?"

"I don't know how to explain it little man."

"Can you try to?"

"Everything was dark, there was nothing there. Endless nothingness. We were all there; we'd keep each other company. We tried to pretend it wasn't a vast empty space where there was only us and the sound of screaming. There is no Heaven or Hell for those who choose to take their own lives. We tried to escape the world only to find ourselves desperately wanting to get back. Those that manage to get back become horrible shadows that… try to silence the screaming." Howard said as if lost. His eyes were glazed, away in the vast nothingness.

"Howard…are you…can you…do you still hear it?" Vince asked, afraid of the answer.

Howard seemed to ignore him and carried on talking.

"I couldn't remember anything. I was searching for something when I got back. I didn't know what it was. I wanted to help those I left behind. I wanted to get them out of that horrible place. Something was pulling me towards this city. A perfect place to silence the constant screaming." Howard whispered, he seemed to snap back from his memories.

"Howard. Can you still hear it?" Vince asked, louder than before.

Howard looked at Vince assessing in his mind how the younger man would react to his answer. Finally he answered.

"Yes. It won't stop."

"Maybe Naboo can help."

He looked at the younger man curiously. Maybe the shaman could help him. If he explained it all, maybe Naboo could free them all. He felt his wings flutter with his excitement.

"I'll call Naboo now. Tell him to come back."

Howard watched Vince run to the phone. Quietly he left the flat.

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Okay I know it was short but I promise the next chapter will be longer.

Please Review ^_^


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